


Warming Up to the Idea

by Miriadel_theRogue



Series: Mistletoe [2]
Category: Lizzie Bennet Diaries
Genre: AU, Christmas fic, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-09
Updated: 2013-12-09
Packaged: 2018-01-04 05:09:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1076904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miriadel_theRogue/pseuds/Miriadel_theRogue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following <em>Mistletoe</em>.  Lizzie talks a walk outside to clear her head and think about a lot of things.  Of course, she isn't alone for long.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warming Up to the Idea

**Author's Note:**

> Part to of the _Mistletoe_ series which I wrote last year.

Lizzie walked down the freezing street, welcoming the cold because it was accompanied by a deserted road. Empty streets meant silence and silence meant her mother was nowhere nearby. It could have been sub-arctic temperatures outside and she would still choose this locale over her house.

It had been less than a day since their Christmas Eve dinner. Twenty four hours since Lizzie had been summoned for a dinner that made college lectures seem like the real Christmas celebrations. In that time, her mother had talked of nothing but their last minute guests.

Lizzie’s only stroke of luck in the past few days was that her mother seemed to be focused on Bing’s presence. The constant prattle may not be directed at Lizzie but it was still exhausting. Even Lydia had left Lizzie alone, just sent Lizzie significant glances as she cleaned up mistletoe. It seemed her sister took Darcy’s word when he said Lizzie’s promise was fulfilled.

Darcy. She distinctly remembered kissing his cheek, how she’d had to place her hands on his shoulders to keep balance as she stood on tip toe to touch his face softly. She remembered everything. After that, she remembered blushing brighter than that bow tie and running to her room as fast as possible.

A while later she heard Darcy’s voice outside her door, but he had only come to convince Bing it was time to go home, so she sank into her pillow and fell asleep.

The next day her mother’s energy had been helpful in drowning out Lizzie’s personal thoughts, at first. But then it became lighter fluid, igniting a thousand new ones. Lizzie bundled up in her warmest clothes, told her father she was going for a walk and left. She hadn’t even cared when she saw Lydia sneak into her room.

She had already walked around the block three times without coming up with any answers. Starting a fourth rotation, she focused on placing each step in one of her old footprints. At least it gave her something to do. As she walked around the block again, her thoughts meandered similarly.

She hadn’t done anything wrong. It had been a friendly gesture of thanks, for what Darcy had said to Bing. It was all on Jane’s behalf. And running away, _leaving_ after she had wasn’t rude. After all, he’d kissed her hand and left afterwards. They were even, so the ball was in his court. Darcy was probably too pompous to play anything besides water polo or cricket anyway.

It wasn’t like she was even mad or disappointed. For the second time he had made his feelings clear. Obviously social standing won in the end.

But did it? Lizzie sat down on a bus bench. Not only had Darcy returned to town, he’d accepted an invitation to dinner despite how he felt about her mother. Plus, he brought Bing and nearly apologized for the whole Jane thing. That had to mean something.

Lizzie shook her head. The only thing she knew for sure was that she had spent months interpreting William Darcy’s actions one way and she had been as wrong as they were different. She had no hope of making sense of any of this.

Shivering, Lizzie looked down the street towards her house. It was starting to get dark but she didn’t want to go back yet. 

The crunch of snow under feet came from the opposite direction. Keeping her head down, Lizzie hoped whoever it was would leave her to her solitude.

“May I sit with you?” Darcy asked. Lizzie swung around to make sure her mind wasn’t playing tricks on her.

Sure enough, Darcy stood there, his dark clothes and red scarf popping out against the wintery white. She glared at him. “No,” she said vehemently and directly at him before sitting straight forward and crossing her arms angrily.

His dedication to that gentlemanly manner kept him respectfully on his feet at her refusal. Darcy didn’t leave though. “May we speak about last night?”

“I would prefer not to,” Lizzie said in what she felt was a very good imitation of an aristocratic lady’s response. Darcy nodded solemnly.

Again, she expected him to leave but he kept standing there. Refusing to let the awkwardness trick her into speaking, Lizzie remained steadfastly still, until her body shivered subconsciously under his observation.

“You are cold,” he stated.

“Imagine that,” Lizzie retorted.

Darcy produced a thermos, pouring amber liquid and steam into the small cup. “For you.” He held it out to her.

She stared at it. “What is it?” she said for lack of something wittier.

“Apple cider. I decided to bring you some when you walked past for the third time.”

“You were watching me?”

“It was quite obvious.” Lizzie frowned at his terse response. “I do not wish you to freeze.” Darcy offered the cup again more pointedly with the softness of an ice chunk. Lizzie took it regrettably, stunting her smile as a sip of it warmed her insides immediately.

She was absorbed in the cider and missed Darcy unbuttoning his jacket so he could drape it across her shoulders. Stunned, Lizzie thought of a host of books where the boy did just this for the protagonist. “Won’t you be cold now?”

“It is no matter,” Darcy said succinctly. He leaned down to set the thermos beside her and still remained standing. She considered inviting him to sit but her pride held.

Content that she was warm enough for the time being, he stood there patiently looking out at the snow falling onto the street. His arms remained straight at his sides, seemingly unbothered by the cold or anything else. Lizzie found it was her turn to gaze at him intently. When she realized what she’d been doing, she put her full attention on the cider, but it had grown cold with the atmosphere. 

Unscrewing the lid to pour more drew Darcy’s attention briefly. Recognizing what Lizzie was doing, he quickly turned away again.

She had come out here for silence but now she wanted to talk. “About the other night…” If she kept her eyes on the cider she didn’t have to worry so much about his reaction. “And what you said to Bing, I wanted to thank you, again.” She added the last part when she realized she’d said ‘thank you’ with her kiss.

Darcy bristled. Yes, bristled. She was ready to throw the cup at his head when he spoke. “Your thanks are undeserved. I was unable to repair the damage caused.” 

“But you tried,” Lizzie said sincerely. He said nothing, just looked at her with so much light and depth in a manner she could not interpret. Hesitantly, Lizzie pulled away so she could drink this cup of cider before it cooled off.

Cup empty, she replaced it on the thermos. “I should head inside before it gets darker.” Darcy nodded, taking the thermos off the bench.

“May I walk you home?”

Lizzie nodded. Standing by herself, she made to offer him his jacket but he refused it and extended his hand down the sidewalk. Starting off, Darcy fell into step next to her as they followed the footsteps that only led towards home.

The silence was comfortable and Lizzie noticed she was slowing down in the cold. It took a while but they reached the point where the walk up to her house deviated from the sidewalk. She stood there, noticing no one was visible in the windows. 

“You should go inside before you get colder,” he interrupted.

“Of course.” Lizzie left, purposefully heading towards the door. On the stoop, she remembered. She still had his jacket. “Darcy!” She called hoping to catch him before he was out of earshot. 

She needn’t have worried because he was still standing at the end of the walkway. “Your jacket.” Lizzie took it off to take it back, Darcy meeting her on the step.

“Of course.” Darcy draped it over his arm, making no effort to leave. “Merry Christmas, Lizzie.”

“Merry Christmas.”

**Author's Note:**

> Dear Stef, thank you, yet again for your wonderful insight and ability to catch my ridiculous typos.


End file.
